Real thing?

Wednesday

Jan 30, 2013 at 10:01 AM

Lou ParrisT-N Columnist

Let me tell you, folks, traveling with the Mountains to Molehills columnist, who is just back from another cruise, can be an extraordinary experience. It can be remarkable, over the top and, on a few occasions, even scary, which is OK as long as we live to tell about it.

There was the time during one of our travels that our ship's crew weathered what could only be described as the perfect storm from where we were hiding — under the covers and trying to tune out the closet doors that were opening and slamming shut throughout the night. We prefer that gentle rocking motion at bedtime, not the kind of morning sickness produced by a sea being churned by a hurricane. There's no doubt in our mind that the young captain from Cyprus became a more qualified master mariner that night.

Thrilling? Well, it was to some, but we noticed the color wasn't back in their cheeks until their puny sea legs were back on land. But weather that severe only briefly shook our confidence, and soon we were back on the high seas and enjoying thrills of a more enjoyable kind — from parasailing to snorkeling to simply getting sand between the toes on a warm beach while shivering folks back home shoveled snow. Yes, we're rubbing it in!

Ah, it's the good life, and along the way our fellow travelers have made quite a splash, including taking top honors in a water-slide race.

And then there were the celebrity encounters, other than the guy who completed his cruise adventure with more pants that wouldn't fit him than he had pants that would fit him, and, according to the gossip, it landed him a spot in the Guinness Book of Records. After the latest cruise, however, your Mountains to Molehills columnist earned the distinction of being the guy with no pants that fit him. After all that delicious round-the-clock grazing, the waist is in need of something more elastic — maybe even a drawstring.

But we did meet up with an even bigger celebrity on one of our previous adventures when President Bill Clinton was rumored to be staying at the Atlantis in Nassau. For more than an hour, folks stood outside the resort in hopes of meeting the big guy. When he finally was spotted, the crowd of onlookers with arms stretched high chanted, “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” After polling the crowd, not one admitted voting for him. Go figure!

Could it get any bigger than that? Bigger than President Clinton?

You bet!

The moment this columnist went aboard the Carnival Fantasy with other passengers from Hendersonville two Saturdays ago, a fellow standing in a hallway just a few steps from our cabin caught our attention. It took asking only once where we had seen him before, but before we could turn to speak, he was gone.

Rats!

Oh, well, it was a big ship, but maybe we would meet up again.

A day at sea passed with no luck.

“Give it up,” our wife said. “It's probably not him.” Thoughts turned to other interests that led us poolside, and that's when our wife nearly punctured a rib when poking a finger in our side to get our attention. “You aren't going to believe who is sitting beside you,” she whispered.

“Oh, my gosh,” we blurted.

Now the guy with the signature visor and expensivelooking Carolina Gamecocks shirt was staring almost nose to nose with us. There was only one thing to do. It just rolled off the tongue without thinking: “Are you Steve Spurrier?”

Positive he would say yes and without waiting for his answer, the decision was made to butter him up with his favorite beverage — this time a Foster's — before inviting him to a gathering with our fellow cruisers. “Here's the room number,” we said as we jotted it down on a piece of paper. “Oh, and one more thing, just for fun. How about tossing your visor to the ground? You know, like you do at the